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Spotlight (Film Review)
Courtesy of Amazon Prime, I finally watched the last best picture winner Spotlight, which I had missed in the theatres. In case you have as well: it deals with the Boston Globe's investigation and uncovering of the systematic abuse going on by Catholic priests in the Boston area. (Not that the abuse was limited there, I hasten to add, but that was what the investigation was about.)
In many ways, this felt like an old-fashioned movie to me, and not just because of the obvious parallels to the most famous of "reporters uncover corruption" movies, All the President's Men. There's the technical aspect - the story is set 2001, the internet is around, but hasn't yet taken over the news cycle (for example, when the story finally breaks, the letters to Cardinal Law proving he knew about various abuse cases for decades are put online, but that's an addendum to the story, not a main thing), the reporters are making notes on paper a la Woodward & Bernstein while interviewing sources, and an editor is confident enough to allow his team months of investigation before breaking the story, instead of going for NOW NOW NOW. Indeed, it's pointed out that going after just one or two particular priests would allow the cases to be dismissed as "a few bad apples" and that systematic abuse can only be proven if you allow for a long term investigation.
But it's also an old fashioned (in the best sense) movie because it doesn't try to create artificial suspense by, say, inserting sensational action movie moments (Vatican death squads sent after our heroes the night of the publication? The movie industry would be entirely capable of it, but thankfully this movie's creators abstained). Nor does it set up romances or relationship drama. (Several of the reporters are married or in steady relationship; this is acknowledged in a few lines of dialogue, but no more.) It relies on the enormity of the story it tells, and puts the narrative emphasis on it. We follow the reporters through the story, various of the victims get narrative room so they become individualized and not "just" names as they tell their stories (I should probably add there are no flashbacks to the acts when the victims were children - the quiet and not so quiet agony of the adults is allowed to say it all).
Perhaps the most unusual touch is that the movie painfully avoids glorifying its investigative team. Not only because it depicts the initial reluctance to tackle the story (which happens because a new editor, not from Boston, not a Catholic, asks for some follow up to one particular case), but also because our heroes realise that they could have written this story far earlier, and that several of them were guilty of looking the other way/ignoring/burying it as well. At one point, a character says "if it takes a village to raise a child, it also takes a village to abuse one", which is a red thread through the story - the culpability of various institutions, not solely one, and a lot of people on all levels.
There are a lot of great character actors at work here, and several of them play anti type - Michael Keaton as Walter "Robby" Robinson, for example, very low key instead of the extroverts I've seen him play so far, Live Schreiber as Marty (the outsider editor) Baron ditto in a different way (deeply uncomfortable yet quietly determined), whereas Mark Ruffalo as gabby reporter Mike Rezendes gets the movie's sole big loud explosion into horrified rage. Stanley Tucci as the victims' lawyer is brilliant, and Rachel McAdams as the team's sole female reporter also gets the role of role of the person losing her faith over this, and while not getting the big loud outburst is as effective in her low key reactions, never more so than when to her surprise the priest she's tracked down starts to talk and insists that what he did was just fooling around, not rape, and that he knows the difference because he's been raped himself. It's McAdams' face that sells you on all the layers and enormity of this moment.
Like All the President's Men, the movie ends with the reporters continuing their work, and refuses to give the audience a neat wrapping up. Yes, the story breaks, and more victims come forward, and Cardinal Law resigns, but he's also then just transferred, as he transferred the guilty, and the damage will never heal. I've seen criticism that there are no great cinematic shots and that this could have been a tv movie; it certainly plays out powerfully on my Ipad. I'd argue that its visual low key-ness contributes to its emotional power. Definitely a must.
In many ways, this felt like an old-fashioned movie to me, and not just because of the obvious parallels to the most famous of "reporters uncover corruption" movies, All the President's Men. There's the technical aspect - the story is set 2001, the internet is around, but hasn't yet taken over the news cycle (for example, when the story finally breaks, the letters to Cardinal Law proving he knew about various abuse cases for decades are put online, but that's an addendum to the story, not a main thing), the reporters are making notes on paper a la Woodward & Bernstein while interviewing sources, and an editor is confident enough to allow his team months of investigation before breaking the story, instead of going for NOW NOW NOW. Indeed, it's pointed out that going after just one or two particular priests would allow the cases to be dismissed as "a few bad apples" and that systematic abuse can only be proven if you allow for a long term investigation.
But it's also an old fashioned (in the best sense) movie because it doesn't try to create artificial suspense by, say, inserting sensational action movie moments (Vatican death squads sent after our heroes the night of the publication? The movie industry would be entirely capable of it, but thankfully this movie's creators abstained). Nor does it set up romances or relationship drama. (Several of the reporters are married or in steady relationship; this is acknowledged in a few lines of dialogue, but no more.) It relies on the enormity of the story it tells, and puts the narrative emphasis on it. We follow the reporters through the story, various of the victims get narrative room so they become individualized and not "just" names as they tell their stories (I should probably add there are no flashbacks to the acts when the victims were children - the quiet and not so quiet agony of the adults is allowed to say it all).
Perhaps the most unusual touch is that the movie painfully avoids glorifying its investigative team. Not only because it depicts the initial reluctance to tackle the story (which happens because a new editor, not from Boston, not a Catholic, asks for some follow up to one particular case), but also because our heroes realise that they could have written this story far earlier, and that several of them were guilty of looking the other way/ignoring/burying it as well. At one point, a character says "if it takes a village to raise a child, it also takes a village to abuse one", which is a red thread through the story - the culpability of various institutions, not solely one, and a lot of people on all levels.
There are a lot of great character actors at work here, and several of them play anti type - Michael Keaton as Walter "Robby" Robinson, for example, very low key instead of the extroverts I've seen him play so far, Live Schreiber as Marty (the outsider editor) Baron ditto in a different way (deeply uncomfortable yet quietly determined), whereas Mark Ruffalo as gabby reporter Mike Rezendes gets the movie's sole big loud explosion into horrified rage. Stanley Tucci as the victims' lawyer is brilliant, and Rachel McAdams as the team's sole female reporter also gets the role of role of the person losing her faith over this, and while not getting the big loud outburst is as effective in her low key reactions, never more so than when to her surprise the priest she's tracked down starts to talk and insists that what he did was just fooling around, not rape, and that he knows the difference because he's been raped himself. It's McAdams' face that sells you on all the layers and enormity of this moment.
Like All the President's Men, the movie ends with the reporters continuing their work, and refuses to give the audience a neat wrapping up. Yes, the story breaks, and more victims come forward, and Cardinal Law resigns, but he's also then just transferred, as he transferred the guilty, and the damage will never heal. I've seen criticism that there are no great cinematic shots and that this could have been a tv movie; it certainly plays out powerfully on my Ipad. I'd argue that its visual low key-ness contributes to its emotional power. Definitely a must.
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